


a rose remembered (draws us onward)

by sangiebyheart



Series: as if it met you in whoever's dream [3]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flower Magic, Late Night Conversations, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentions of War, Very minor mentions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 14:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30006165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangiebyheart/pseuds/sangiebyheart
Summary: The prince is leaning against the railing, watching the waves below whip against the ship’s side in a gentle, reliable rhythm. They appear to hypnotize him; as the man approaches, sure his steps on the creaking wood are much louder than the night’s chill and the crashing waves, the prince only startles to attention when his name is called out, and his protector close enough to touch.“At ease. Just me.”
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix
Series: as if it met you in whoever's dream [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2207076
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	a rose remembered (draws us onward)

**Author's Note:**

> this, unfortunately, is the last part i wrote for this series a year ago. i will say that i have no plans on continuing this, as many ideas as i had for it. regardless, please read part 1 and part 2 first, as they bring about very necessary context.
> 
> thank you for welcoming me into your space once again. 
> 
> enjoy!

This story begins with a man alone in a bed.

Not that the cot made to fit a single person could truly be counted as such, with its thin and hard excuse of a mattress and the scratchy sheets that it provides. Regardless of the lack of luxury the man is so used to from his life of privilege in the palace, he had found no trouble at all in discovering his peace in those uncomfortable circumstances – and how could he, with the love of his life beside him, holding him close to his chest so neither would fall off the bed, while the calm waves of the sea rocked them to sleep.

Now, though, the man wakes all by himself, as his hands reach out into empty space to draw closer what is not there anymore. This frightens him into wakefulness, the cold seeping into his bones and pricking at his core, and although he knows he will not receive an answer, he calls out into the darkness of their cabin, “Chan?”

As his eyes adjust to the darkness and his sleep-muddled mind clears to a state of rationality, the man takes note of his love’s boots missing from the spot they had placed them, but to his horror – be it far from a surprise to him – he had not taken his coat out with him. There is no place to go other than up deck, as the ship’s quarters are filled, and they have no access to other areas. He does entertain the thought briefly, of the prince sneaking somewhere he is not allowed to be – if anyone, it is the prince with such a remarkable gift of remaining undetected – but he dismisses it just as fast. His gut tells him it is not so.

The wind is a soft breeze against his skin as the man makes his way upon the deck, light yet chilling and not so easily ignored if you are without proper wear for the season. One of the few perks of traveling the seas at night is the stretch of the night sky above their heads, sprinkled with stars far away yet shining bright, as they are ignorant of the ongoings of a faraway planet. The moon illuminates the deck in a white, faint glow, full as it is, and he closes his eyes for a moment as though it was the sun whose rays he was enjoying.

The man has his prince’s coat clutched in his hands, a grip tight enough that it would kill a man were he to place it around a throat. In his profession, he does not need to lay hand on anybody should they threaten his prince, not unless he is robbed of his shield and his sword and has nothing else to offer to protect him. The impending war would have changed that for certain, might even still change that if things do not go their way.

The prospect makes his blood boil.

He makes a conscious effort to loosen his grip around the fabric.

The ship’s deck is not considerably large, empty at this time, it does not take long to find his beloved. The prince is leaning against the railing, watching the waves below whip against the ship’s side in a gentle, reliable rhythm. They appear to hypnotize him; as the man approaches, sure his steps on the creaking wood are much louder than the night’s chill and the crashing waves, the prince only startles to attention when his name is called out, and his protector close enough to touch.

“At ease. Just me,” Felix assures him, throwing the coat around the prince’s broad shoulders. His hands rest upon his back as he does so, stroking his arms as he goes to press the coat closer to Chan’s shivering frame. He enjoys this; enjoys that he has the privilege to touch Chan so openly, in the way he has always wanted but never had the opportunity.

“Oh,” is all the prince makes. He hums in appreciation of the sudden warmth encompassing him, so he leans back into Felix’s touch and sighs fully. “I did not wake you, did I?”

In all honesty, Felix is uncertain; if anything, the lack of Chan’s presence was what woke him up, not Chan slipping away from their cabin in the first place. He tells Chan as much, as he hooks his chin on Chan’s shoulder, placing a small kiss on the side of his neck, “I have missed _His Majesty_ by my side. And I, before all people, know that there is much trouble with a prince absent from his bed, so naturally, I had to see what he is up to.”

The tension in Chan’s shoulders melts away a little, though Felix is alarmed to find it there at all. His prince laughs under his breath, all too familiar with his nightly endeavors and the number of times he has made Felix suffer through them with him – Felix still believes it is time wisely spent, no matter how often Chan apologizes to him for making him supervise. Chan has that about him, the need to make up for everything he has other people do for him, even if they will do it gladly or on their own accord.

“I apologize for making you worry,” Chan says, skipping several steps in their conversation, and the tension in his shoulders returns. “I felt restless, and I realized that we do not get to see the stars like this in the city, so I came up here.”

“I understand,” Felix hums. “I take it you were distracted by the waves before you could take a proper look at the stars.”

“All right, then. You caught me,” Chan sighs. He turns around in Felix’s hold, though not quite eager to meet Felix’s eyes. A flower is in his hands, the flower Felix had given him the day before to calm his troubled heart in the throne room; the daisy looks as good as new, as though it had only just been plucked. A wonderful thing that Chan has kept it until now, has taken care of it so not one petal is out of place, not crooked nor standing to the side. Of course, Felix’s flowers had that quality about them, to never wither unless disregarded by the recipient, but it still warms his heart to see Chan holding it in his hands. If only for the fact that Felix gave it to him.

Chan appears scolded, exposed, ashamed even. For a moment, Felix feels bad for him, uncertain of the actions which made Chan so small. His lips curve into a smile, though, and he says, “Do not worry. It is nothing quite so horrible.”

“‘ _Do not worry’_ , he says, as though my profession does not involve worrying for my prince,” Felix retorts, only half-teasing this time. It may have been part of his job to assure the prince’s safety, though personal feelings are the driving force behind every action which helps this very cause.

“By technicality, as you are not my guard anymore, it is not,” Chan replies, an attempt to stall the inevitable question. Whatever he is afraid of, Felix cannot make a guess himself.

He says, “Yes, indeed. And seeing as you assured me that I am now an equal to you, my prince will surely forgive me if I call him a fool for being such a cunning little shit when, truly, he is only trying to mask his real feelings from me.”

Chan considers him with an open mouth, apparently rather taken aback at being called _a little shit_ , was that right only ever his to bestow upon his younger brother who, in Chan’s honest opinion, is the sole bearer of that title. Any other time, and Chan and Felix would have laughed how, out of all the people in the kingdom, out of all the people in the palace, it was Jisung and Minho – each their own certain way of mischief incorporated – that found each other to form one epitome of chaos.

However, the night is dark and pressing down on them, Chan is awake when he should not be and so is Felix, there are other matters at hand in need to be addressed.

“Harsh of you to use my own words against me,” Chan says, hardly even flippant, but he is grasping at straws at this point, Felix knows.

Felix does not dignify him with an answer, his silence enough reason for Chan to finally spill the contents of his mind.

The touch of his hand comes as a surprise, as it slowly crawls up Felix’s chest, feathery-light upon his neck until it reaches its destination on his cheek, holding it in his palm as though it was most precious to him. Chan’s eyes are fixed on their connection, following the caressing movement of his thumb rather than staring into the challenge of Felix’s eyes on him, and he lets out a shallow breath.

“I assure you,” Chan begins, placing a brief kiss on Felix’s lips, “it is merely one of those nights where sleep does not come as easy as it should. I feel fine, beyond that.”

Patience, Felix has learned over all the years of serving Chan, is a virtue one can only require by rigorous practice – by enduring, by listening, by allowing yourself to wait. Impatience, Felix has realized, is a vice which accompanies it like Felix accompanies Chan, throughout everything, restlessly and without regard for other people’s opinions about them. With Chan, both vice and virtue are tested frequently, though Felix cannot exactly call himself a master at the one, nor immune to the other.

He breathes through the haze of Chan’s proximity, for he cannot lose himself in it, not when he so clearly sees the gears turning inside Chan’s mind.

“Chan…” he whispers, drawing him in again, although there has never been much of a distance to begin with. His hands fall from Chan’s arms to clasp Chan’s between his palms, the daisy’s blossom sticking out just so as though they, together, created it from their touch alone. “I understand your reluctance to tell me. I will not press the matter if that is what you wish. But if you do decide to keep it to yourself, I would ask you not to be so dismissive about your troubles. I do not need to be an empath to see that you acknowledge you are struggling and that you accept that you are not fine, but please, give yourself enough credit to take it seriously.”

For a while, Chan does not speak a word, as if he is trying to decide what he can say and what better to store away in the confines of his head. When he does, his eyes lift to meet Felix’s at long last, and Felix is surprised and aching when he finds them glassy. “Will you hold me? Just for a moment?”

And who is Felix to deny such a heartbreaking request?

“Of course, my love,” he whispers, then opens his arms to engulf his prince in his warm embrace, one hand snug against his back, the other roaming into the prince’s blond locks, fingers massaging his scalp. Felix then gently urges Chan’s head into the crook of his neck, at which the prince gives a sigh of overdue relief.

They stay still for so long, Felix feels his eyes fall shut with the remains of his fatigue, though he does not notice until sudden movement makes him jump back into wakefulness. Chan laughs at him, but the sound is tainted with a sniffle that gains him Felix’s full attention again.

“What is it about my hold that has you in tears every time?” Felix asks him, cracking a watery smile himself as he pulls back to wipe the tears from Chan’s face. He does not aim for an answer, though Chan gladly, unexpectedly, provides him with one.

Chan shudders through a long breath. “You ground me, Felix. Everything… everything is entirely too overwhelming, all the time. If there is no soul around to confuse my emotional state, my thoughts will do the job splendidly on their own. But—but whenever I am with you. Whenever you are close enough, you… you become the sole focal point I needed to feel like I can finally breathe again.”

In Felix’s defense, any person would be stiff as a board from shock, after words delivered so candidly and from the heart. Although Felix knew of his importance to Chan’s well-being – as he was so acutely aware of his own dependency on his prince – he had never noticed the extent of it. And if he is honest, his brain is quite unable to process Chan’s words, so it might take even longer to sink in.

“Surely… surely everyone you touch has that effect on you…” Felix whispers, disbelieving as he is elated to be so special to Chan. He cannot be the only one.

Chan shakes his head. “No, Felix. None have quite the same effect as you do. While my powers do cling to the person I touch, they are… amplified, of sorts. It tends to be too much, if I touch someone who is rather… expressive with their emotions. Jisung, for instance, is like that. But he is considerate enough to leave me be when it becomes unbearable.

“With you… I cannot begin to describe the feeling, only that it has always been there. From the moment you… gave me this flower when we first met, you were calming me down.”

The daisy in Chan’s hand rises into Felix’s field of vision and Felix’s lungs give out. How Chan had spoken, it almost sounded as though this daisy before him is the one he gifted Chan when they were boys, an unintentional display of Felix’s magic serving as the unexpected catalyst for a blossoming friendship.

It could not be, though. It is impossible, even with a flower as magical as this one.

Felix swallows around the lump in his throat. It does not vanish. His tongue would not work anyhow.

“This daisy is my most treasured possession, Sunshine,” Chan says with a smile. “It does not have the same abilities as you do, but it is a great source of comfort, still. It has helped me before I even realized my empathy powers.”

Something unfathomable spreads within Felix’s chest, something that chases confusion away, and Felix thinks it might be fear. Inexplicably, Felix remembers it from those days of childhood where he was afraid of his powers, of what they might mean once somebody found out about them, long before he had come to know of Chan’s own capabilities.

Felix had forgotten what it felt like to have the sensation eat at his insides, crawl into every single niche of his body and infect his cells with trepidation, just when he is supposed to be at peace with his soul.

“ _Felix_.”

“How you long have you known?” Felix asks, cutting to the chase.

“That you are gifted in other crafts beyond your impeccable swordsmanship?” Chan inclines his head, then holds the flower up for Felix to take. His fingers shake when he does, rolling the stem between his fingertips in awe. “This little buddy would not wilt, not after weeks, nor months after you had given it to me. At first, I thought the servants replaced it with a new daisy each day, but when I had asked, they told me they did not even notice I had flowers in my room. In fact, if I remember correctly, they even praised me for taking such good care of it when they saw.”

Chan’s chest swells with pride for a moment, but nervous laughter escapes him nevertheless. Any other instance and Felix would be there to soothe him, though he stands transfixed, robbed of speech and breath alike, waiting for Chan to continue.

“There is no reason for you to be so anxious, Felix. Did I not promise you to keep your secret, all those years ago?” Chan asks, fingers trailing along Felix’s jaw absent-mindedly.

“I… had always believed you oblivious…” Felix tells him, thinking about all those times where he had given up subtlety and had instead given into desire, and left Chan flowers anywhere and everywhere his steps would take him. If Chan noticed, he had never spoken of it to Felix.

He watches as Chan hesitates, as his smile turns abashed, and he realizes that perhaps, his prince is not as mindful as he pretends to be after all. His suspicions are proven true when Chan admits, “I… did not connect the dots until two days ago, I am afraid. When you gave me another daisy, out of nowhere, and I would have assumed you had stolen it from the gardens again, had it not had the same aura as the first one you gave me.”

This, of all the things Chan has said, gets Felix to laugh at his fullest, because it is just so _Chan_ that it startles Felix back into reality, back to where they are, away from the fear which had closed up his throat before.

“You are the least observant Empath I have ever known!” Felix exclaims, gleeful in his exasperation, but he pulls a protesting Chan close to his chest again. “Daisies were not even in season anymore,” he whispers into his ear, his entire upper body vibrating with quiet laughter. “Did you honestly assume I had stolen a _magic_ flower _by accident_? For all these years?”

“Forgive me for not realizing you were the creator of the second most comforting item in my possession _when I was ten years old_ ,” Chan grumbles in his defense.

But Felix will not have it. “What about all of the other flowers I have given you? None of them ever aroused suspicion?”

“What fl—” Chan’s mind appears to halt for a split second, his eyes far away as he mumbles, “oh. _Oh_.”

“Gods, Chan,” Felix laughs, kissing him full on the mouth. “I do not suppose you have kept every single one of them, but if what you have told me holds true, should they not have possessed the same properties as the daisy, since they were my own creation?”

“They— _you_!” He sputters, unable to get the words out.

“Yes, I was your secret admirer, Chan,” Felix fills in for him, as he so dutifully does whenever Chan feels himself flail. “Though I had stopped pretending it was a secret after the third flower or so.”

“I… I gave them away. To the servants. Because they liked them so much.”

“I know…” Felix gives him a smile and rolls his eyes as fondly as he can manage. “I had a heart attack when you gave _me_ one. I half expected you to reject me, but you never mentioned it again.”

“Oh, Gods…” Chan mumbles to himself, burying his head in his hands. His words barely make it through their bodily shield. “I wish I had known. Please, you must believe me, I would have kept them all—”

“Chan, please,” Felix halts him, softly prying the hands from Chan’s face, finger by finger, bringing them to his mouth to plant sweet kisses on each of them instead. “All is good, my love. Do not beat yourself up over the past when we have finally managed to win the present. And after all, now that you know…”

The daisy – so small, yet so meaningful – is tucked behind Chan’s ears, white petals brushing against wild blonde looks which have come astray from the ponytail Chan had worn to bed, no doubt a result of the tossing and turning Chan so often does when he is plagued by the demons of his insomnia. It delights Felix to see Chan’s lips quirk with the gesture, and Felix is even more excited to broaden that smile with no more than a snap of his fingers – though first, caution is advised, as one can never be too careful to check for true solitude before magic is practiced.

His eyes roam the deck, his ears make an attempt to tune out the crashing of the waves and the howling of the wind, and when he deems them safe enough to give Chan a show of his abilities, his eyes meet Chan’s with a smirk.

“Now that you know…” he repeats, drawing Chan closer by the waist, a strong hand on the small of his back, so they are almost nose to nose once more. His other hand vanishes behind his body, producing the blossom of a red rose within his palm in a matter of seconds, and he presents it to Chan with the widest grin he can muster up. “I can finally give you what I had been meaning to give you the night we would have had to part.”

Chan lets out an audible gasp, and Felix can feel a shudder run through his whole body from where he touches his prince. His eyes flicker from the rose to Felix’s face and back again, in utter disbelief and shocked, it seems. “Wow,” he breathes, and Felix thinks his eyes might be playing a trick on him as he watches the moonlight shimmering within Chan’s irises. The red rose transfers from his fingers to Chan’s without him taking notice of it, and Chan trails along the smooth petals with such care, Felix might just tear up himself.

“The meaning is not lost on me, my dear,” Chan whispers, and Felix hopes it is love striking to such a degree that Chan has lost his voice, as the wet traces the tears leave behind could tell so easily of heartbreak, too. But Felix trusts Chan’s heart, trusts his own, and hears that watery laugh which turns into a gurgle. “Red roses,” Chan says, so low and broken, eyes alight with adoration in spite of his sorry state.

“ _True love_ ,” Felix confirms, and promptly realizes he has succumbed to crying, as well. “Be careful not to get pricked.”

How they must look now, to strangers, to the wind and the waves, two crying lovers embracing each other. Felix can barely believe it himself, can barely fathom how any deity would grant him such a divine blessing, when all he ever did was do as he was told.

Felix is a dutiful person, the paragon of the son who had never thought twice about following in his parents’ footsteps, leaving personal sacrifices along the way so his brother would not have to do the same. Chan had been there the entire time, from the first sword lesson to the moment Felix had graduated and was welcomed into the guard, facing his own hardships with the duties of a growing crown prince. He had less of a choice to forego them than Felix ever did, but never complained publicly, adamant to show the world he could be as much of a model prince as he was born to be.

With each other, they could escape the pressure of their lives for some nights, tucked away into the farthest corners of the castles, high up in the towers or down in the dungeons close to the kitchens – whenever they had the chance, they met, and talked, and shared each and every thought weighing on their young minds, knowing their parents would never understand them in the same manner their friend would.

Somewhere between that first daisy which jumpstarted their friendship, and a certain blue hydrangea placed neatly inside a book when Chan was not looking, Felix had fallen in love with the prince he had come to call his friend. Becoming his personal guard, his protector, had not only felt right, but it had also saved him from mandatory military service – which would have worn Felix down to the point where he could not have ignored the mental distress the unwillingness to perform in his profession caused any longer. And Chan, anxious amidst preparations of his coronation ceremony and the never-ceasing expectations of his father, had seen this and demanded Felix be put in the position of someone who would watch over him, keep him safe and sane in his pursuits to grow into the future ruler of his kingdom.

Not once has there been a time in either of their lives where they did not help each other out. They had grown into constant companions, sensing at first glance what the other felt, emphatic powers or not – the prospect of parting on someone else’s terms had never sat right, and inevitably lead them to where they are, on a ship to a foreign country, attempting to prevent a war that is a volcano ready to erupt.

Before Felix had known they would enter such dangerous and unknown territory, though, he had wished to bid a proper farewell – only, he never got the chance to confess his love through the rose, not before Chan had done it first and cut him to it. It was no competition, truly, but.

Those three words. They have not passed either of their lips, have not even touched their tongue and yet, there is no doubt that Chan is his and he is Chan’s. He must let him know, now. Before the safety of the night will make way for the gravity of the day, and the Icy Lands are going to bring uncertain challenges they will have to prepare for to navigate them away from a war.

So, Felix says, “I love you,” because he can and he must, and Chan responds in kind, meeting Felix in a kiss to whisper the words right back to him, implement them into Felix’s soul, bare and vulnerable only for Chan.

“I do not ever want to lose this,” Chan confesses. “And I am so afraid. That I will have to let you go one day. I could not bear it.”

Felix laughs, tentative, but warm, “No force could ever be great enough to wrest me from your side, Chan. After all, we are both too stubborn to allow it.”

However, Chan heaves a breath, stepping out of his hold and turns away – Felix is confused, a little irritated, though he knows Chan will have a reason, and waits with the patience of a saint.

“But what if I make the wrong decision, come tomorrow?” Chan offers him, then, and the puzzle pieces slot together at last, as Felix realizes the cause for Chan’s mental turmoil. “What if… what if I cannot be the prince everyone expects me to be, and I will have to choose between one uncomfortable solution and another? What if my choice will plant a seed of resentment within you, and it will grow and grow until you will find that you and I have no chance at all?”

A moment too long, and Chan’s face falls further, further, further, because Felix is too dumbstruck to respond in time. Felix is no stranger to Chan’s tendency to overthink and paint the worst possible scenarios until he no longer sees the most realistic outcome.

Felix feels like a fool now, having thought that he would be the only exception.

“They are your family, Chan,” Felix tries to assure, still at a distance. “They will listen to you, and they will grant you the necessary respect to negotiate fairly and let you work your magic. And I—I will be by your side, no matter what is going to happen tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that.”

Hesitant, Felix reaches out to brush his fingers against Chan’s hand – the one grasping the rose tightly – gathering all of his hard-earned determination into his face, “I trust you experience my sincerity, my loyalty to you. I would not give us up, nor our relationship and friendship, over simple feuds. As your partner, I will promise you to listen to you, to always trust in your honesty and to always give you a chance to explain.”

Chan’s smile is sad when he gives it, but he gives it nonetheless. “As do I, Felix.”

“We are going to make it through,” Felix promises. “I have never known a better, kinder prince than you. If there is any person more suited to be the leader of their kingdom, I will not believe it until I see them, for I already know there will be no one leading with such compassion, vulnerability and grace, no one who will go out of their way to prevent a war, when any other person would sooner fight battles they cannot win.”

“What if I have misjudged this?” Chan counters, “What if I chose the battle I cannot win and—I am going to make it harder for my people?”

“Do you truly believe that?” Felix asks. “That we should have run into war, flailing arms, blind on both eyes and robbed of our wits, knowing we didn’t try to the best of our abilities to preempt the suffering?”

Chan stays silent – a sign he knows Felix is right, that the thought has occurred to him and is still somewhere in his mind, buried deep underneath those intruders and ill wishes which have taken over his abilities to sleep and think rationally.

Felix continues, “It will be difficult, yes. We have no way of knowing if the king will have stopped his troops from sailing at your plea, but… I have no doubt, not a single ounce of it, that you will commandeer us out of any dangerous predicament we will have to face. Rest assured that, in any case, I will be there. As you asked and as I wish.”

With that proclaimed, Felix ushers closer to his beloved, resting their foreheads together. The gesture has a long history with them, a mark of significance and meaning in good or bad times, a reminder for the future, and grounding them to the presence. “We will make it through this.”

“Thank you, Felix,” Chan whispers, gruff and quiet, so Felix hears the exhaustion in Chan’s tone. “I love you, too.”

Felix smiles at him, though Chan has his eyes closed and no longer sees it, still he presses a kiss to Chan’s forehead and hopes he will know, regardless. “There is no need to thank me. I swore to protect you, and though I cannot defeat your demons for you, I shall try my hardest to weaken them.”

He holds Chan in his arms, out there on the deck of the ship, for what must be another eternity. They do not speak, not a single word or sound uttered between them – just their gentle breathing and the waves and the wind, trusted companions by now, almost warm and welcome when one fears the inevitable arrival of tomorrow.

Their feet carry them to their cabin on their own accord, Felix far too tired to work on anything but autopilot and Chan already half-asleep in his arms. He manages to rid them of their coats and boots and maneuvers them into a horizontal position once Felix has his sights set on their luxurious cot, the rose and the daisy watching from the top of their bags, content and beautiful in the moonlight filtering in.

Felix is on the verge of sleep when he hears Chan speak one last time, “I think,” he mumbles into the crook of Felix’s neck, “that the daisy is so special… because I knew who gave it to me. And somehow, it has forged a connection before either of us knew it would be there.”

In a barely-there kiss against his throat – a touch so light, it tickles – Chan whispers, “I am so grateful that it did.”

The feeling, of course, is mutual.

**Author's Note:**

> a fun fact about the flowers! as they are magically created, they stay fresh and beautiful for longer than regular flowers. what helps here, and what is the reason chan was able to keep the daisy for so long, was the fact that he unintentionally used his healing powers on it. as long as chan practices tender care, any flower felix gives him will remain as it is.
> 
> please warm my heart with a lovely comment if you liked this. hope this chanlix was to your liking! :)
> 
> thank you for reading. have a wonderful day! <3


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